


Can You Spell It?

by Toryb



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Coroner!Betty, Detective!Jughead, F/M, It starts off as smut and then surprise there's feelings, Kind of a post 3.02 episode, Married!Bughead, Porn with Feelings, in the sense that i'm basing this off their investigation kink, which they both obviously ahve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/pseuds/Toryb
Summary: Detective Jones pays his favorite coroner on duty a visit and things get a little out of control. They always do.





	Can You Spell It?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IndieBughead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/gifts).



> I want you all to collectively go to Maria, @indiebughead, and blame her for this. We were just casually talking about the episode and then bang I'm writing a cute little oneshot about bughead investigation kink and it's all her fault. Shout out to her for beta-ing this for me as quickly as she did too <3
> 
> Listen, we all know Jughead was having a hard time keeping it in his pants this last episode so here it is.

The heavy manila folder smacked against the ever-growing pile of fresh cases on Detective Jones’ desk. He groaned, running a hand through his hair and contemplating setting the whole thing on fire and running for the hills. He’d been here for eleven hours already. Good news was, his shift was almost over. Bad news, though, was that his partner, Toni Topaz, was wildly gesturing to the mess on their shared desks and nagging at him in a way that could even rival his mother’s sharp tongue.

 

“I can’t even read my screen, Jones. And another thing,” she stopped dead and stared him down. It was terrifying. Jughead could definitely see why most of their tougher guys cracked under the steal gaze of all five feet of her unbridled terror. “When was the last time you slept?”

 

He tried his best to look shocked by her question, to not give away the fact that caffeine was the only thing pumping through his veins with enough strength to keep him awake. Judging from her grimace, he had not done a very good job at hiding it.

 

“Jesus. Right. Go the fuck home before you fuck up a case so bad I won’t be able to fix it for you.”

 

“Oh, like the Atlanta Double Homicide? I forgot it was me who accidentally shot through the ceiling and blamed it on the perp. You’re totally right.”

 

She kicked him under the table. Hard. It hurt. “Go away before we all get tired of you.”

 

“Fine,  _ fine _ . Let me stop by the coroner real quick to see if we’ve got a cause of death on the Mead case already and then I promise I’ll head out. I’ve got Chinese takeout leftovers calling my name. I got the double pot stickers pack.”

 

“Course you did. This. You. You are why they call cops pigs. You’re the reason.” Toni grumbled something bitter under her breath before tossing him the file. “Go see your coroner lady. We all know the real reason you’re going down there anyway. Take a Xanax and shut the fuck up tonight.”

 

Jughead and Toni had been friends a lot longer than they had been co-workers. They had started off as members of the same gang during High School, the notorious Southside Serpents, and ended up, ironically, paired up together in a drug task force to take down their once rivals, the Ghoulies. It was karmic justice, especially since Toni got to break Malachai’s knee caps as a giant  _ ‘fuck you’  _ for when he’d spray- painted her grandpa’s trailer with a skull. Sometimes the world worked in mysteriously beautiful ways.

 

“Don’t forget some flowers! What are you, a heathen? Jesus, who raised you?”

 

Toni Topaz, everybody, continually saving his ass for the rest of his life. He hopped outside of the precinct long enough to stop by the flower shop a few blocks away. There was a lovely thing of daisies he’d been eyeing for some time that belonged on the desk of a certain coroner — nothing wrong with livening up a rather dead space. Soon enough, Jughead was on his way down the steps and into the darkness where the bodies were kept. He had never understood why they needed to be at the bottom, like some sort of dank, dark prison for the deceased. Add in a few chains and an angry guard with an axe to grind and he’d call it practically medieval.

 

There were no windows, so when the door opened he was met with the smell of harsh chemicals and preserved bodies. (Yes, there was a smell, a very distinct one that was hard to describe.) But braving the depths was easy when he has such a pretty sight to look at. Betty, the coroner, was crouched over her table, scalpel in hand, mask pulled up to cover the pink he knew her lips were painted with. Even when she rarely interacted with the living, she put her best foot forward. It was in her Cooper DNA.

 

He had known Betty in High School, too. To be fair he had known most people in the building since High School. It came with the territory of being small town born and raised. He also knew Ethel, the secretary — had even taken her to homecoming their freshman year, though that was a memory he liked to forget, especially the way it had ended, with Ethel puking spiked punch on his only nice pair of shoes.

 

Jughead didn’t move, just stood and watched as Betty worked. Her hands were deft, careful, making marks on her notepad as she stared at the corpse in front of her. The curl of her ponytail swung with each soft movement, fluttering around from laceration to laceration, using a tiny tweezer to pull out shards of glass. Once he was sure he was reaching an uncomfortable amount of voyeurism, he coughed, knocking twice on the frame of the door.

 

She shot up, surprised by the intrusion, eyes critically scrunched as her whole body tensed. She spun around — likely to say something scathingly witty to the fresh recruit who dared to bother her — but when their eyes met Betty’s entire body relaxed. Looking down to the flowers, her eyes lit up and he knew she was smiling even behind the mask.

 

“Are those for me?”

 

“What? These flowers? Oh no, I was planning on leaving them with one of these guys,” he nodded to the many lined up metal boxes, all labeled in her careful script.

 

Betty rolled her eyes and grabbed the vase, setting it beside the wilting roses from a few weeks ago. She peeled away the mask and offered him a genuine smile. “Well. I’ll tell them you dropped them off.”

 

“Please do. I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. I certainly didn’t bring them for you. I brought you something else, though.”

 

Her eyes flickered and he saw the green recede, consumed by the darkness of her pupils. “Oh? And what did you bring me then?”

 

“Something better for my favorite coroner.. But first, any updates on the Mead case?”

 

She huffed, picking up one of her clipboards from the large stack and handing it to him. “Finished it a few minutes ago. I was just cleaning up this guy before my shift ended. A few cuts and bruises, defense wounds on the hands, but I’d venture to say that the behead was what did her in, not the papercuts.”

 

“Thorough as always. You always impress me. Do you think you could send a sample of the fiber r you found on her cuts to the lab?”

 

“Already done. You should have your report on your desk by tomorrow morning.”

 

He dared to let his eyes wander up from the notes. It was a mistake. A horrible, miserable mistake, because the sight in front of him, of Betty with her lab coat falling open to expose her painfully short skirt, well — that was sinful in ways that made him ache. “You’re a genius, Betty. You know that, right?”

 

“I do, but I never get tired of you telling me it. So, say it again?”

 

Jughead tossed the clipboard to the side, letting his hands go where they wanted, straight to her hips so he could pull her impossibly close. “You are a genius, Betty.”

 

And then their lips met, a heated kiss that would have been startling to anyone else given their environment. But not him. Not them. This was a song and dance they knew impossibly well: the flowers, the compliments, they would end with him buried inside of her in a rushed fuck so no one outside could walk in on them. That was part of the thrill though. Someone could walk in at any moment and blow their cover. It was beyond exhilarating.

 

Jughead picked her up with practiced ease and they found their way to the lockers. Her lipstick was smudged, a pretty mess across her porcelain skin. He wouldn’t have her any other way. Betty pressed in close, letting her hands explore the plains of his chest through the tight button-up shirt. Roughly, he pulled her skirt up until he could see the lace of her black panties.

 

“Who are these for?”

 

“Just some guy. You wouldn’t know his name.”

 

“Hmm, lucky bastard. I’ll have to have a word with him.”

 

She smiled when they kissed, humming sweetly. But hums soon turned into moans as Betty’s hips came down against his, creating friction they both so desperately craved. He felt her wetness against his clocked cock and fumbled with the zipper of his jeans for a moment longer than either of them would have liked.

 

“Jughead, you better fuck me soon or I swear to — oh god!”

 

He muffled her cries into his mouth and started his slow and sweet moments. Her legs were already shaking, wrapped tightly around his waist as he moved into her again and again and again. It was enough to drive them both mad, his intoxicatingly slow pace making her whine.

 

“Juggie. Juggie someone could...you need to hurry…”

 

“I need to hurry? Baby, I don’t think you set the pace here.” Slower. Painfully slower. With each drag of his cock, he watched Betty shiver and shake with pleasure, like he was the master and she his violin. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

They rocked together until he could feel the fear in his heart start to seep in. They had been at this awhile, and eventually Toni might dare to send a search party out for him in fear he’d been abducted.

 

“Do you want to come?” he whispered against her lips, chapped and bruised from his incessant kisses.

 

Betty moaned, her head hitting the cool metal of the lockers in frustration. “Please. Please. you know I do. You know I need to.”

 

At the loss of his cock, she let out a frustrated cry. He tried to calm her with another kiss as they stumbled back towards her desk. “Bend over.” She followed his instructions wordlessly, breathless beneath him until finally,  _ finally  _ he was inside of her again. The new angle brought wicked pleasure and a pretty view.

 

Jughead could watch the way her back arched with each thrust, the shake of her legs, the way her hot breath painted the glass of the flower vase. “Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are when you work?”

 

She hummed in pleasure. “Tell me again.”

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you work. When we work,” he punctuated each compliment with another thrust. The desk rocked under their weight, old wood protesting. “Seeing your hands do what they do. The way you take such care of everything do you. That look in your eye when you put the pieces together and it’s like an explosion.”

 

“Jughead! Oh god…”

 

Wet. Impossibly, unbearably wet. So wet he could have slipped from her folds if he wasn’t careful. When her walls started to flutter, he knew it was time. He moved harder, faster, until nothing but the sound of skin against skin filled the space between them, the occasional moan punctuating their movements as the careened towards joint release. Her legs were shaking again, threatening to collapse as the orgasm ripped through her entire being.

 

To describe the feeling of being locked in Betty’s release would be impossible. He felt like he touched Nirvana, like the clouds had opened up and he had been invited into heaven. When he pulled out, he couldn’t pull his eyes away, watching as their combined cum dripped from her used pussy down her thighs. She seemed content if the dazed smile on her lips told him anything.

 

“Perfect.”

 

“Hmm...thank you. So are you.” Jughead helped her sit up and pulled her close, placing a gentle kiss against her lips. “Might want to fix that lipstick.”

 

Just as she was about to retort, his phone started to ring. 

 

_ Muffin _

Shit. Well that was never good.

 

“Bug, what’s up?” he answered. Betty’s eyes perked up and she shuffled closer to him. “Did something happen at school?”

 

“Um...you could say that.” On the other end of the phone, Rose Juliet Jones was sounding very hesitant to answer her father’s questions. “Is mom with you?”

 

“Uh oh. That never means anything good. What happened? I’m putting you on speaker.”

 

Despite the protests of their fourteen year old daughter, Betty and Jughead huddled around the phone. His wife tried to keep her fear at bay as she asked, “Is everything okay, Rosie?”

 

“I um...I lost my...you know, that thing you let me borrow...the expensive one…”

 

“Out with it, bug. Bite the bullet on this one.”

 

She groaned but finally it all came pouring out. “I borrowed mom’s old leather jacket, the one with the snake, to look cool in front of Courtney Blossom but I lost it at school please don’t be mad, please please please I’m sorry!”

 

“Rose Juliet Jones, you better be home when we show up and willing to explain yourself. You know how many times we’ve told you not to wear that jacket, especially outside the house! And then you lost it!”

 

Jughead put a hand on his wife’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze to help calm her wrath. “Not to alarm you, bug, but I’m thinking the house should be spotless by the time we get home. You’ve got about twenty minutes. I’d suggest writing down everything you know and have a good apology speech ready.”

 

“Got it. Thanks, Dad. I love you. I’m really sorry…” he could hear the tears in her voice. There was nothing he hated more than one of his girls crying.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down. We’ll figure it out once your mom cools off. It couldn’t have gotten far. And even when we’re mad, we love you.”

 

Jughead always made it a point to make sure she knew how loved she was. He certainly hadn’t heard it enough as a kid. Neither of them had. Betty softened and pulled the phone close. “I love you too. Doesn’t stop you from being in a world of trouble, but I’ll never stop loving you. Do what your dad said.”

 

She hung up with a sniffle and a promise that everything would be in perfect condition by the time her parents returned home.

 

“So...guess this means we’ve got another mystery to solve.”

 

Finally, Betty smiled, rolling her eyes as she picked up the flowers. They would look good on the kitchen table. “You’re such a horndog, Jughead Jones.”

 

“Tell my wife to stop being so impossibly beautiful in the midst of a mystery and I’ll consider changing my ways.”

 

“I’ll make sure she gets the memo.”

 

That night he ate her out while she read aloud their suspect list.

**Author's Note:**

> .........i'm not ashamed  
>  follow me on tumblr @tory-b


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